


Obitine Week 2018

by LilyWanKenobi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dreams and Nightmares, Episode: s02e13 Voyage of Temptation, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Korkie Kenobi, Mandalore, Mandalorian Civil War, Matchmaking, ObiTine Week, Obitine, Oneshot collection, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reunions, Romance, Satine Kryze Lives, Skinny Dipping, Sneaking Around, Spoilers, Unhappy Ending, Young Love, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi, obitine week 2018, oneshots, young satine kryze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-17 06:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16089857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyWanKenobi/pseuds/LilyWanKenobi
Summary: Hello, all, and welcome to Obitine Week 2018! This is my first year being a part of this, so forgive me if I don’t understand the process very well. I will be posting every day this week, so be sure to subscribe so you get notifications! I hope you enjoy!Day One: RegretDay Two: What Could Have BeenDay Three: Young LoveDay Four: Dreams and NightmaresDay Five: Friends/FamilyDay Six: NumbersDay Seven: Free Day





	1. Day One: Regret

Satine should have expected him to be there. After all, this had been a major victory for the Republic, one that he had been a part of. Originally, she had made the trip to Coruscant to discuss her neutral position with the Chancellor, who was displeased by the idea, but the negotiations had been interrupted by the news. It hadn’t been long before the news had been filled with the news that the war would soon be over, and Palpatine had taken pride in the fact that there had been no need for Mandalore to be neutral, as the threat had been quickly and effectively neutralized, just as they’d promised.

Pompous, arrogant man. She hadn’t even bothered to point out that Mandalore’s neutrality hadn’t hurt anything either, despite the fact that the Republic had all but begged for their ‘assistance’.

Far be it from her to let a system she didn’t even care for drain them of all their resources.

But now, she was actually wondering if this lull wasn’t just that. A bit of a break before they would have to go back into it again. For, despite all of Palpatine and the media’s reassurances, the promised negotiations with the Separatists had yet to be brought forward. And until they did, she couldn’t rest easy.

Unlike some other people.

She couldn’t help but watched him as he navigated the huge ballroom with ease, dressed in formal Jedi robes and with the Senator Amidala on his arm. It had caused quite a stir when they’d arrived together, only serving to add fuel to the rumours that they were having an affair. Rumours that would doubtless multiply rapidly by the time the night was over.

Despite wanting to, she couldn’t be angry at him because of it. They hadn’t seen each other in over fifteen years, and it was hardly as if he owed her anything. 

_ She’d let him go _ .

She could have asked him to stay, but she hadn’t.

So now, here he was, hailed as a hero by one and all, glass of champagne in one hand and the prettiest woman in the galaxy on the other.

Amidala was young, petite, curvy… everything Satine was painfully aware that she wasn’t. The Senator of Naboo was known galaxy-wide for her beauty, her kindness, her innocence. She’d been elected queen by an overwhelming majority when she’d been only fourteen, and had navigated her system through a miniature war with all the calm and grace of a woman twice her age.

Something Satine had failed to do. Even now, Death Watch loomed like a storm cloud on the horizon, threatening to split her beloved system again. 

And this time, she didn’t have a Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan to back her up.

* * *

 

Obi-Wan listened absently to the endless chatter of Senator Tej Wa, almost painfully aware that she was here.

He hadn’t expected her. Hadn’t even known she was on Coruscant. Wouldn’t have thought she would come, if he had. Generally, she had as little to do with the Republic as possible. 

Not that he knew what she’d been doing these past fifteen years.

But here she was, mingling with Senators and monarchs, looking more elegant and refined than any of them.

“What is it, Obi-Wan? Do you see someone?” 

He’d almost forgotten about Padmé until then. Originally, Anakin had planned to escort her to the gala, but Palpatine had asked him to come to his office only a few hours before. When he’d not made it back in time, he’d asked Obi-Wan to escort the senator until he made it. The council had supported the idea, insisting that he attend for the entire evening.

Meddlesome creatures. It was the first break he’d had since the battle of Geonosis, and he’d planned to spend it drinking cheap liquor with his friends and reminiscing about their times as padawans. Dressing up in formal robes and mooching up to the elites was far from his wishes, though the alcohol was certainly better.

He glanced around for Satine again, only to find that she’d disappeared into the crowds. “I thought I saw someone I once knew, but it appears that I must have been mistaken.”

She smiled, looking around her with her large, brown eyes. There was no doubt that the Senator was beautiful--if too short and brunette for his tastes. The former queen was also besotted with Anakin, despite her protestations. But he’d already talked with her about the impossibilities of the match, and there was little more that he could do. If the pair wanted to carry on, there was nothing he could do. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d never had a flagrant affair despite  _ his _ master’s warning.

He supposed it was part of the process of growing up. You fell in love, made mistakes, and then you moved on.

Obi-Wan just hadn’t mastered the moving on part yet. 

A flash of blonde in the crowd caught his eye again, but this time, she wasn’t alone. 

He’d never seen the man who accompanied her, but even from a distance, he could tell that he was Mandalorian. Tall, blond, he reminded Obi-Wan of one of the arrogant clan leaders that they’d encountered on Mandalore. And the way he stood over her, one hand on her back possessively and offering her a sip from his champagne rankled.

But why should he be offended? He’d given up any claim to her years ago, when he’d left. Sure, he’d been willing to stay--had wanted her to ask him. But she hadn’t, and he’d left. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, and he usually didn’t doubt his decision.

He  _ usually _ didn’t see her.

He sensed Anakin’s presence only a few moments before Padmé perked up. Belatedly, she tried to dampen her apparent change of attitude, but he didn’t miss the alteration of her tone as she handed him her mostly full champagne flute. “Will you excuse me, Obi-Wan? I need to run to the fresher real quick.”

He let her go without any protest. He would let them enjoy this brief reprieve, if only because he remembered a day when he’d done the same.


	2. Day Two: What Could Have Been

It was rare, these opportunities for them all to be together. The last time had been nearly a year before, when he’d managed to escape the order and his padawan for a weekend. This time, though, Anakin was on a rare solo mission and he’d been given a week of leave. In a matter of hours, he’d been landing his starfighter on the landing pad of Satine’s vacation home on Karkaa, one of the smaller planets in the Mandalorian system. It was also cold, the mountainous land constantly draped in snow.

He pulled his cloak tight around him as he strode toward the house, the bitter weather doing little to dampen his spirits. It was his third time at her vacation home, a place she only went when there were no issues on Mandalore for her to deal with, something that was even rarer than his visits. 

He hadn’t told them he was coming, choosing to try and surprise them. Thea’s fourteenth birthday was in a couple days, and he’d wanted to be there when she got her present. No doubt his daughter would be happy just to see him, but what girl didn’t deserve a ship? After all, her brother had received one on his fourteenth birthday the year before.

Obi-Wan smiled, palming open the back door and slipping inside. A few hallways and turns later, he found himself standing outside the door to the library, where he could sense his family residing. He was just about to open the door and let himself in when it slid open on his own accord.

Korkie yelped, jumping back and tripping over his sister. The two siblings fell in a heap on the floor, but neither seemed to care.

“Father!”

In a moment, they were both upon him, squeezing him tightly. It had been two months since he’d seen Thea, and four since he’d seen Korkie. Both had grown in height and maturity. It struck him that they were quickly making the change from children to adulthood, and he was hardly there to see it.

“Obi-Wan.” Satine’s voice was cool--she hated surprises--but there was a sparkle of pleasure in her blue eyes. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

He shrugged apologetically, allowing his offspring to drag him over to the fireplace that their mother was lounging before. “The council cancelled my mission last minute.”

Araminthea’s gray eyes shone. “Are you going to be able to stay for my birthday?”

“Unless an emergency comes up, I should be here for the entire week.” He put one arm around his son’s shoulders, and the other around his daughter’s, relishing in the moment. It was rare that they all were together, and even more rare that they had the advantage of time to take their leisure. He usually chose to take shorter leaves in favor of being with his family more often, but it was always nice when he could afford to take more time off at once. “I suppose you’ll be stuck with me for the next five days.”

Korkie mock groaned, but his grin gave away his delight. “I suppose we’ll just have to manage, won’t we, mom?”

Satine snorted, getting up from her seat and pouring herself a mug of tea. “You’ll manage. Now that your father is here, he can take care of you and I can start working on…”

Obi-Wan used the Force to take the mug from her hand as he gently tugged her down to sit in his lap. “You’ll do no such thing. I didn’t come halfway across the galaxy to let you slave away your vacation.”

Thea snuggled into his side. “Come on, mom, just for a little bit. You can work later.”

He felt her relax reluctantly, allowing him to wrap his free arm around her waist. Korkie had gotten up to get mug of tea for himself, but now he sat down in front of the fire as well.

The four of them remained there for several hours, catching up on each other’s lives until the blazing logs were nothing but glowing coals and the midnight storms howled outside.

As he bade his children good night and followed Satine back to their room, he reflected on how fortunate he was. He had a family whom he loved and who loved him, despite the fact that his work restricted the amount of time he could spend with them.

Oh, well. Only a couple more years, and Anakin would be knighted. His promise to Qui-Gon would be kept, and he could leave the Jedi in peace. He’d wanted to leave when they’d found out she was pregnant with Korkie, but she’d insisted that he finished his apprenticeship to Qui-Gon. Neither of them had anticipated the Master’s death, or the fact that he would ask Obi-Wan to train the boy. When he had, however, it had torn them apart. It had taken nearly two years for them to reconcile, but it was still a difficult subject for them to talk about. 

But things would change soon. Anakin would be knighted, he would resign, Satine would finally agree to marry him, and he could be with his family.


	3. Day Three: Young Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan and Satine enjoy a moment away from Qui-Gon's watchful eye

Being in love was the best thing Satine had ever done. 

Arms wrapped around her waist and chest pressed to her back, Obi-Wan pressed light, feathery kisses against the back of her neck, nearly causing her to giggle. The sun was warm on their bare skin, the waist deep water a pleasantly cool contrast.

When his hands began to wander, she ducked out of his hold and splashed towards the deeper part of the river, squeaking pathetically when he bounded after her. He caught her around the waist, spinning her around mid air before they both collapsed into a heap. Somehow, their lips found each other again, and she moaned softly as he tangled his fingers into her hair. In return, she grasped his padawan braid, using it as her anchor.

Thankfully, Qui-Gon had agreed with Obi-Wan’s suggestion that he should scout out Clan Urdan’s base before taking her there. After all, they’d had so many bad encounters when they didn’t do so.

She was certainly more safe out here, in the jungle, skinny dipping with the love of her life…

All at once, he pulled away from her, eyes bright and alert. Then, before she had a chance to ask him what was happening, he was dragging her back into the direction of their campsite.

Just out of sight, he stopped to boost her up into a large tree, clambering up behind her and motioning for her to be quiet. 

On the ground below them, two Mandalorians were prowling about their impromptu campsite, talking in hushed Mando’a. Though the scene usually might have been a cause of fear, she’d recognized the colors to be that of Clan Urdan, one of the smaller allies of Clan Kryze. No doubt they’d been sent out to retrieve them from the campsite where Qui-Gon had left her an Obi-Wan the day before, but she wasn’t yet ready to reveal themselves. It would be quite embarrassing to do so, in their current position.

She was beginning to regret letting Obi-Wan convince her to go skinny dipping, especially considering that they were only to stay at the campsite until Qui-Gon located the Urdan compound and came back to retrieve them, something that had only taken him a matter of hours, by the looks of it.

So now, here they were, both butt naked and hiding in an obliging tree to protect their shame. It wasn’t the first time they’d seen each other bare, though it was the first time they’d touched while being so. They’d only couple twice, and both times they’d been nearly fully dressed. It was one of the many downsides of having to hide an affair from a watchful Master.

Though, with all of its difficulties and downfalls, Satine wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world.

It actually saddened her, somewhat, to know that the Jedi’s time on Mandalore was coming to an end. Though she was happy to know that peace would finally be returning to Mandalore, the thought that she would have to give him up was not a pleasant one. 

Yet another reason to enjoy this while they had it.

The two guards finally left the campsite, going over the rise to the water where they’d been bathing only a few minutes ago. She didn’t protest when Obi-Wan pulled away reluctantly, using the Force to pull their garments from their drying place near the fire. They made short work of donning their clothes, knowing that they couldn’t hide any longer. Gingerly, he lowered her to the ground before dropping down beside her. 

A few minutes later, the two Urdan guards came back to the campsite to find two flushed, slightly damp looking teenagers sitting by the weak fire. From the duchess’s testimony, they’d gone to another portion of the creek to replenish their water supply and she’d been pulled under after underestimating the current. The Jedi had jumped in after her and rescued her, and they’d just returned and changed into dry clothes.

Whether the guards believed them or not, they didn’t say. However, no one missed the look that Qui-Gon gave when they later related the tale to him. 


	4. Day Four: Dreams and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during Voyage of Temptation. Obi-Wan has a familiar yet new nightmare.

As soon as his master was out of sight, Obi-Wan pressed Satine up against the wall of the cave, ignoring her feeble cries of protest. Their lips met in a rush, pent up desire from the past few days rushing forward as they finally were reunited. Qui-Gon had become suspicious, and seemed to be always underfoot. 

But they were alone now. Qui-Gon was venturing out to the nearest village in an effort to replenish their dwindling supplies, and wouldn’t be back until the next morning. It would only take him a few hours to make the trek, but he always took a long, varied route back to discourage the Death Watch from finding their location. Thankfully, this also gave them time to slake their ever raging lust, if only for a short time. 

Satine pressed against him, slender body fitting against his perfectly. Even though he felt as if something was off, the unabating need clouded his mind until all he could think about was being with her again. He tugged impatiently at her tunic, wanting, needing it to be gone. But she batted his hands away, slipping out of his grasp and laughing as she ran out into the night air.

He waited only a minute before following her, but the sense of something being wrong was stronger now. The Force was elusive, hanging just beyond his reach, and suddenly, his legs felt as heavy as iron. It was rapidly growing dark, Satine’s lithe form rapidly fading.

Obi-Wan called to her, wanting to warn her that something, something was wrong, but she never looked back, continuing to run towards an unfamiliar horizon. He slogged after her, yelling her name until his voice was hoarse. It wasn’t until she disappeared over a rise that he finally seemed to break free, and he ran after her recklessly, realizing too late that the rise was actually a cliff.

When he landed--miraculously, on his feet--, he felt an eerie sense of deja vu. Gone was the forest and Satine. In front of him was the horrifyingly familiar plasma doors. Already, he could see the creature fighting his master. He knew every turn, every move, every clash of red upon green seared into his brain.

And the end was coming soon.

As always, he strained against the plasma doors, trying to command them to open with the Force. He could already see the drops of sweat on Qui-Gon’s brow, the labored breathing, the delayed responses.

And all at once, it was over.

The doors opened too late, only allowing him to catch his master as he fell. The zabrak disappeared, leaving him with nothing but his anger, terror, and fear.

But this time, his master didn’t die in his arms. He didn’t whisper the familiar last words that had dictated his life for the past ten years. Instead, Obi-Wan could only watch in horror as the face of his master turn into that of the only woman he’d ever truly loved. The gaping hole was still in her abdomen, the same as it had been with his master, put there by the same creature that he had failed to stop before.

Her voice was thin, her breathing labored as she raised a hand to touch his cheek.

“Remember, my dear Obi-Wan. I’ve always loved you.”

He could see the life rapidly fading in her eyes, the pain that would shortly be no more.

“I always will.”

* * *

 

He woke with a start, bathed in a cold sweat. Beside him, Satine mumbled something in her sleep, turning over.

It had been a dream.

Only a dream.

He let out a shaky breath. They were on the Coronet, on their way to Coruscant. She was safe. Maul was long dead, and Senator Merrick was no longer a threat. The whole thing was nothing more than a dream.

_ Always in motion, the future is. _

Heart still beating erratically, he lay back down, forcing himself to calm down. He hadn’t dreamt of Qui-Gon’s death in years, and never of Satine’s. Though it was likely just an after affect of the entire mission, he couldn’t ignore it. The message was clear, and he knew better than to ignore it.

He was becoming too invested, and he’d learned long ago that becoming invested was always his downfall. It could be no coincidence that this dream--Anakin would have called it a vision--surfaced the same day that he’d finally given into temptation. The Force was warning him, and he would be a fool not to listen.

Sighing, he pressed a soft kiss to Satine’s head. “I’m sorry, love.”

* * *

 

The next morning, Duchess Kryze woke to an empty bed and the instinctual knowledge that she would forever be alone.


	5. Day Five: The Matchmakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Padmé get up to a bit of mischief. My take on the Friends/Family prompt.

Satine loved Mandalore, and neutrality, and the fact that more people wanted to join the Council of Neutral Systems, but cozying up to politicians was  _ not _ her forte. 

But, it was her duty.

For nearly four hours, she’d scoured the ballroom, speaking to senators, diplomats, monarchs, translators, ambassadors, presidents, chancellors, generals, and even an odd tyrant or dictator. If it hadn’t been for Padmé remaining by her side the entire time, she was sure she would have snapped more than a few heads off, for which she was truly grateful.

Something that her friend was willing to exploit.

“Please, Satine, just this once.” The nubian Senator’s normally cool facade had somehow changed into a pout, making her look younger than her twenty-six years. “It’s been a month since I’ve seen him, and he’s supposed to be leaving out in a couple hours. I’m not asking for much, just that you distract the other one until we can get away and…”

“...have a quickie in the broom closet? I don’t think so.” Satine was grateful, but she was also tired. Her day had probably began hours before Padmé had even gone to bed, something she blamed the time difference between Naboo and Mandalore for.

“No sex, just a quick bite to eat.” Padmé’s eyes grew impossibly large, seeming close to tears. “Look, I’ll even throw in a bottle of that Nubian wine you like so much, and you can even use my lake house for vacation.”

That was tempting, especially considering she needed both a drink and a vacation at the moment. “And all I have to do is distract your Jedi lover’s friend long enough for you two to disappear?”

Padmé nodded. “That’s all. You don’t even have to stay the whole time.”

Satine sighed. “Fine. Who am I targeting again?” There were three Jedi at the event, or so she’d been told. The only one she had recognized had been Knight Skywalker, who had winked at her from across the ballroom early on in the night.

All at once, the pout vanished and the younger woman beamed at her, slipping an arm through hers. “Come, I’ll show you.”

Satine let her friend drag her across the room, already formulating a method of attack in her mind. Approach the Jedi, inquire after Master Yoda’s health, thank them for their service, maybe even ask their opinion on her speech from earlier…

Then, every thought flew out of her brain.

Standing there, beside Jedi Skywalker, sipping wine and looking absolutely ravishing in his formal Jedi robes, was Obi-Wan Kenobi.

She could have kicked herself. Of course it was Obi-Wan that Padmé was talking about. She’d heard the rumors, of course, and had seen the two together at another ball a couple months before, but she’d always held out hope that it was nothing more than a rumor.

Apparently, it wasn’t.

Obi-Wan swallowed his wine a bit too fast, coughing once. “Your Grace, Padmé.”

Padmé smiled up at him, something that Satine would only be able to accomplish if they were horizontally inclined. “Obi-Wan. It’s good to see you again. I hope your leg is better?”

“The healers have declared it sound once more, though I’m warned to refrain from shattering it again.” His despicable dimple flashed alongside his despicable grin. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

The senator flushed. “I… that is… I wanted to introduce you to a good friend of mine, Satine Kryze, Duchess of Mandalore.”

Satine raised her eyebrows.  _ This _ was Padmé’s plan? How was she supposed to distract Skywalker if…

Unless she was mistaken, and Obi-Wan was not the lover Padmé had spoken about, something that was becoming more and more of a possibility, considering the lovestruck look in her eyes when she smiled at Skywalker.

Obi-Wan offered her a small, forced smile. “Satine.”

Padmé’s eyebrows raised. “So you know each other.” Satine heard the feigned surprise in her voice and stiffened when she realized that this had likely been a trap. “Well, then, why don’t we all get a bite to eat and catch up? My treat.”

He frowned. “I don’t…”

“Come on, Master, it’s just dinner.” Skywalker could win an award for his pout. “As it was, you were just saying that you didn’t feel like eating ration bars for dinner, so…”

“Yes, yes, Anakin, I know.” Running a hand through his immaculate hair, he sighed. “You have a place in mind?”

A look of triumph passed between Padmé and Skywalker, and she smiled sweetly at him. “There’s a place not far from here that sells excellent soup.” She turned her dazzling smile to Satine, no doubt knowing that there would be no way for her to refuse the inevitable invitation. “You will join us, of course?”

Bloody matchmakers.

Satine nodded. “For a little while.”

Padmé grinned, tucking her hand into the crook of Anakin’s arm. “Shall we go, then?”

Reluctantly, she fell in step behind them, taking the arm that Obi-Wan offered her. “Schemesters.”

“I should have known he was planning something like this.” Obi-Wan murmured softly. “Just looking for an extra robe. Of course he was.”

Even though his words didn’t make any sense to her, she couldn’t help but find pleasure in the sound of his voice. “I suppose they planned this?”

He hummed softly. “I caught him going through my stuff, but I didn’t realize that he had found anything about us.”

Was there something about them to be found? Satine couldn’t bring herself to ask. “He seems like a good guy.”

“They’re happy, so I don’t interfere.” Accepting her cloak from the doorman, he settled it across her shoulders before shrugging into his own. “Though I might have to if they think it’s their duty to help everyone else find the same bliss that they are enjoying.”

They stepped out into the chilly dampness of the winter night. Theed got far colder than Sundari’s biodome ever did, and there was even a thin layer of snow covering everything. At least the cold provided some distraction from the man beside her, though he did radiate warmth. “You were injured?”

“Crushed my right leg from the knee down in an explosion. It’s mostly healed now.” He sighed, glancing at her briefly before looking in the direction of the parking bay where Padmé and Skywalker had disappeared to. “You’re looking well.”

Satine took comfort in the fact that her blush--for their certainly was one--could be blamed on the cold air. “As are you,” she replied lightly, not yet ready to admit that he looked much more than well. “I hadn’t known you would be here.”

“The Council needed someone to speak to the Queen of Gørge. She requested my presence.”

“Kaira? What business would she have with the Jedi?”  _ Or with you? _

He smiled, a small, fond smile that spoke of many memories. “Gørge’s government has had ties with the Jedi for centuries. We even have a small stronghold on their moon Osmin. They were afraid that joining the Council of Neutral Systems would harm their position with us.”

So, it had been business. But why had the Queen requested him? “Kaira is a lovely woman.”

“So she is.” He exhaled slowly, his eyes gaining a far and away look to them. “Qui-Gon and I were there for two months when they lost one of their meditation instructors. Kaira would visit every Centaxday to join in on the political science and social study classes, and we bonded over a mutual dislike for politics and war.”

_ Bonded _ . A word that she’d never heard him use about anyone but Qui-Gon and his creche mates. She tightened her grip on her robe, giving herself an excuse to pull away from him a bit.. “I see.”

“Her fiancé is a good man as well.” She heard the smile in his voice rather saw it, so familiar it was. “Of course, that makes her one more lovestruck person trying to play matchmaker. I’m told, under no uncertain terms, that I’m banned from the wedding unless I bring a date.”

He was teasing her, and she would be damned if she gave him the satisfaction of acknowledging the effect he had on her. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I will.” 

They fell into a somewhat comfortable silence, which surprised her. Since he’d left, the few encounters that they’d had tended to the less amicable side. This, standing beside him in comfortable--if a little tense--silence was refreshing. It almost made her forget to care that Padmé and her escort had, by all appearances, deserted them.

A fresh gust of icy wind blew and she shivered.

_ Almost _ .

“You’re cold.”

She startly slightly when the warmth of his robe enveloped her. “What are you…”

“Keeping you from freezing. Honestly, Satine, you need to take better care of yourself.”

“I was doing very well until those schemers decided to leave us here.” Despite her argument, she pulled the robe closer, closing her eyes and inhaling the familiar scent of Obi-Wan appreciatively.

He made a somewhat strangled noise that prompted her to look back up at him. Even though he had his hand covering up the bottom half of his face, she could still make out the reddish tinge spreading across his cheeks and noise. 

The stupid man was just as cold as she was, and yet he gave up his robe.

Loosening the clutch on the thick garment, she held it out slightly and nodded stiffly. “Stop playing the hero and get under here.”

He blinked, hesitating. “I wasn’t…”

“You didn’t have any issues sharing a bed, but you’re going to chicken out about this?” She was actually proud of herself for bringing up their past relationship in such a casual way, even if she was blushing furiously. “As it is, there’s plenty enough room for the both of us.”

As gently as possible, he readjusted the voluminous robe so that it encompassed both of them. Satine couldn’t stop the shiver of pleasure that ran down her spine at the feeling of him pressed up against her back, no matter how much she would have liked to deny it, and when he found it necessary to tuck her into his arms to ‘hold the robe shut’, she didn’t complain either.

* * *

 

From the toasty shelter of the speeder, Padmé snuggled deeper into her husband’s arms. “I wonder how long it’s going to take them to realize that we’ve been here all this time?”

He nuzzled her hair, pulling out yet another pin despite her protestations. “Hopefully long enough for me to convince you to skip dinner and go straight to dessert.”

She scowled up at him, though the expression lacked any real anger. “Don’t you want Obi-Wan to find true love?”

“Of course I do, because then he’ll be taking emergency trips to Mandalore all the time and I can sneak out more. Which means…” he trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Ani! Be serious.”

He gave a short, husky laugh, tugging her closer. “I am serious. The Duchess means less Obi-Wan, and less Obi-Wan means more free time for me, and that means more sex with you.” He flexed his hips against hers to prove his point. “If you still don’t believe me, I can prove how serious I am to you right now.”

Padmé gave him a scandalized look. “Anakin, no. We’re in public, for goodness sakes! What if someone I knew came along?”

It pleased some part of him that she didn’t dislike the idea for its own merit, but because she thought it too risky. “It wouldn’t be much different than if someone came along now, hmm?”

“Well… I mean…”

“That’s what I thought.” Scooping her up gently, he deposited her into the passenger seat. “Let’s go pick up our lovebirds, shall we?”


	6. Day Six: The Number Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the Numbers prompt, the Number Five and Obitine

Five minutes after meeting him, Satine knew that she wasn’t going to get along with the padawan. While Master Jinn seemed friendly and respectful enough, Kenobi was an entirely different matter. In a matter of moments, he’d refused to bow to her, sneered at the conditions of her palace, contradicted her guards, and talked smack to her advisor.

The arrogance of it all. She glared at him, but he must not have deemed her worthy enough to glare back at, for his hideous stormy blue eyes offered only boredom. The absolute nerve!

She rose, drawing herself up to her full height, glad for once that she was taller than average. With the low heels that she had elected to wear, she was a full half inch taller than him, something that buoyed her spirits somewhat. “Master Jinn. I apologize that I have to cut this meeting short, but there are arrangements to be made before I leave. Shall we meet in the east hangar in, say, five hours?”

The Jedi Master--he almost reminded her of a hippie--bowed, long ponytail falling over his shoulder. “Of course, your Grace.”

Satine smiled and nodded, shooting a poisonous look to the apprentice beside him as she motioned to her guards. “Until later, then.”

* * *

 

It took her five months to realize that she didn’t hate Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Well, she’d realized she hadn’t truly hated him since about two months in, but it wasn’t until month five that she realized that she was in a fair way to fall in love with him.

It was disconcerting, really. She’d grown used to thinking that she hated him, and even proclaimed it daily to Qui-Gon. It hadn’t been until she’d had more than five minutes to herself that she realized that any emotion she felt about the Jedi Padawan was far from hate.

For force’s sakes, they’d kissed!

The thought brought a smile to her still tingling lips, and she touched them self-consciously. It had only been a quick kiss, one had in the heat of the moment, but it had changed her entire outlook on life.The world was no longer a gray, weary place where only war and strife could survive, but a place full of vibrant color, scenic flora and fauna, love and happiness.

Great. Qui-Gon’s hippiness was rubbing off on her.

But, at the moment, she didn’t even care.

* * *

 

Korkie was five days old before his father laid eyes on him.

It was a holy moment.

In the big master bedroom of the mansion on Kalevala, Satine watched the father of her firstborn son hold the newborn for the first time. His hair was tousled and there was dark circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep, and the dirt on his cloak and boots spoke of a hasty departure. 

She’d sent him a message when she’d gone into labor, but he hadn’t received it until his return back to Coruscant. According to him, he’d seen it, given his debrief, begged for two days leave, and hopped onto the first freighter headed to Mandalore.

So what if he was a little late? He was here, and that was all that mattered.

Relaxing against the pillows that she’d used to prop herself up, Satine reflected over the last several months. She hadn’t found out that she was pregnant until five days before he and Qui-Gon were slated to leave, and even then she had hesitated to tell him. In the end, she’d told him, but only after making him promise that he wouldn’t leave the order until he took the trials. He’d been furious with her and had begged to be released from the promise, but she’d stuck to her hypothetical guns. 

She’d never told him that the promise had been inspired by his own Master--no doubt he would feel quite differently about the situation if she did--who had gone to great lengths to explain why she should not ask him to leave the order. Again. At the time, she hadn’t known that she was carrying Obi-Wan’s child, and had agreed reluctantly, something she later regretted.

But who was she to argue with the Will of the Force? The cosmic deity had done enough for her to believe in it, and if it wanted Obi-Wan to become a Jedi Knight, who was she to stand in its way?

* * *

 

Five months after Korkie’s birth, Satine found out that she was five weeks pregnant with their second child.

How was a bit of a mystery to her.

It wasn’t as if they had been especially careful--it was taboo on Mandalore to use preventative measures, and their awkward scheduling restricted their reliance on her ovarian calendar, but she still hadn’t expected to conceive so quickly. They’d only seen each other a handful of times, and tended to spend what little time they had as a family, but that didn’t seem to have mattered.

She was pregnant.

Again.

Shavit.

She spent hours puzzling over the predicament, wondering what she was going to tell him. Any thought she’d once had of hiding it was no more, leaving her with nothing but dread at the thought of telling him that he was going to be a father.

Force, why now? They’d already gone through it all with Korkie--the arguments, threats, tears--and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to do it again. He would want to leave the Order, she would tell him to stay.

They’d spoken of having more children, and it had been something that was put on their radar, but only the once-he-was-knighted-and-would-leave-the-order radar. It didn’t seem that he was any nearer to that than he had been a year ago.

The gentle sounds of Korkie’s cry roused her from her thoughts, temporarily making her forget about the new hurdles that she was about to face.

* * *

 

Satine could hardly believe that it had been five months since they’d last set foot on Coruscant.

At first glance, it didn’t seem to have changed much. It hadn’t, if one spoke only of infrastructure. However, there was a new chaos that seemed to push the city-planet to new heights. Everything was loud, angry, dirty… What had once been a luxury spaceport now harbored dingy ships and run down booths where small time merchants hawked their illegal wares.

It was not a place she wanted to be.

Then again, she hadn’t wanted to be stuck aboard a ship with an escaped convict, four horny teenagers, and a newborn for five months as they fled from death either, but she had. 

And she’d somehow survived with only mild trauma.

But, as Obi-Wan constantly reminded her, she wasn’t alone. She had him, their family, their friends. Padmé had offered to let them--that is, her, Quin, and Thea--a place to stay until they could officially be cleared of any and all crimes that they’d been charged with. Korkie and Amadi had managed to secure lodgings for themselves and had offered to take in Obi-Wan until the entire unpleasant business with Skywalker had blown over. In turn, Obi-Wan had “suggested” that Heilyn stay with them, as well, which left Padmé’s apartment relatively free of male presences, if a bit crowded.

The former Senator didn’t seem to mind their intrusion in the least, cheerfully waddling around the quarters and offering everyone nonalcoholic beverages. Her husband, on the other hand, seemed content to scowl at all and sundry, trading venomous looks with her at every opportunity. She knew he didn’t like her, and blamed her for most of what had happened.

That was fine with her, because there was still a bitterness toward him for taking away her husband when she needed him most. It hadn’t been his fault, but it didn’t diminish the fact that she still disliked him.

It took them several days to get to some point of being settled, their days being split between the Senate, searching for new quarters, and hiding from the paparazzi. five weeks had passed by the time that they were exonerated and they were finally able to breath easy. five days later, they moved out of Padmé’s tiny apartment and into a much larger place only five blocks away from both the Senate and the Jedi Temple. 

Though the Jedi had made it clear that Obi-Wan would not be welcome back into their ranks, they had offered him the brand new position as their representative in the Senate. Palpatine had used their position as an independent organization as an excuse for them to not have a presence, but the Council had made it clear that the Republic would give them some sort of say if they wanted their help during the Reconstruction. The Jedi had taken heavy losses during the latter months of the war, and it showed heavily in their attitude. The abuse of power and breach of trust that the Republic had shown them after Obi-Wan’s trial had left a sour taste in the mouths of many Jedi, and there was even rumors that many had left the main temple in favor of the sattelite locations.

The after effects of war would likely linger for decades to come, but Satine was sure that they would see a change. Whether it be over the course of five years, five months, five weeks, or even just five hours, the galaxy was always changing.


	7. Day Seven: Free Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Seven: After eleven years, Satine and Obi-Wan meet again at Anakin and Padmé's wedding. Modern AU.

Obi-Wan Kenobi exhaled in relief when the pilot turned off the seatbelt light.

Blast, he hated flying.

Even the first class accommodations he had sprung for didn’t diminish the fact. Nothing could have possibly eased the ten hour nonstop from London to Seattle. The moment he had stepped on the plane, he had regretted his promise to attend Anakin and Padmé’s wedding.

Blasted millennials, always in a hurry. They had reconnected barely six months ago, and had gotten engaged only a couple of months afterward. Of course, he had his suspicions of why they were so eager to have their wedding, but that was truly none of his business.

Grumbling under his breath as he retrieved his carry on bag from the overhead bin, Obi-Wan followed the flow of traffic off of the jumbo jet and into the airport. In less than a half hour, he was at the baggage claim, and ten minutes later, he stepped out into the gray Seattle dawn to greet his long time friend and work partner.

Anakin helped him load his suitcases into the back of the SUV, likely Padmé’s. “Good flight?”

“Horrible. The pilot had absolutely no idea what he was doing.” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow when he saw that the driver’s seat was empty. “Who drove you?”

“I did.” The younger man raised his right arm, metal from the elbow down. “Padmé surprised me for an engagement present. It’s a hell of a lot better than my last one. I can even beat her at Jenga now.”

“I’m glad. You’re last one was bloody awful.” As usual, guilt followed the statement. It had been Obi-Wan’s call that had caused the younger man to lose his arm in a bombing. True, the consequential retirement had given Anakin a chance to reconnect with the love of his life, but it didn’t make him feel any better about it. “How is Padmé doing, by the way?” The petite brunette was a well known political journalist who had stolen the boy’s heart nearly five years before.

A dreamy-eyed look came into the younger man’s eyes as he merged into traffic. Disgusting. “She’s perfect, Obi-Wan.” And with that, he launched into a fifteen minute monologue of the respectable journalist’s good qualities. Obi-Wan listened in relative silence, glad that the man had found a bit of sun on his horizon.

It was more than he can say for himself.

True, he had his estate in Cumbria, his position in the Agency, and his friends. His life wasn’t so very bleak, but it still would have been better if…

No, he would not think about that. He had no idea why he even still thought of her, after all these years. It had been, what? Eight, ten years? Eleven years, four months, and sixteen days?

“Obi-Wan?”

He blinked his way out of memories. “Yes, Anakin?”

The younger man looked at him in concern. “You okay?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Anakin looked skeptical. “Who is Padmé’s maid of honor?”

Well, blast. Sola? Sabé? He was certain it had started with an S, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember. Heaving a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair. “I suppose I’m tired, Anakin. I haven’t slept in over thirty-six hours.”

“You had a twelve hour flight. What were you doing the whole time?” The incredulousness in Anakin’s voice wasn’t lost on him. 

He picked at the window sill absently. “I don’t like flying.”

Anakin snorted. “I don’t understand why. Whatever happened to you wanting to become a pilot?”

“That was a long time ago, Anakin. Who even told you that?”

“Qui-Gon did. He always bragged about you, you know, about how well you’d done at flight academy, and how you were going to get you license and stuff.” He slanted a glance at him. “How you were just taking some time off to explore your options.”

Of course he had. Qui-Gonn had been the closest thing to a father either of them had ever had, and had never failed to brag about his foster kids. “Priorities change. You know that as well as I do.”

Anakin grunted a sound that might have been agreement, or it might not. Whichever it was, Obi-Wan let the subject slide.

* * *

 

Satine Kryze took a sip of her sparkling juice, wishing it was alcohol. Though she would never admit it, and certainly not to the women who were attending Padmé’s bachelorette party, she hated weddings. For the past eleven years, she had managed to avoid any ceremonies of heartfelt marital binding, and she would be damned before this one would take her down.

When Padmé had asked her to be maid of honour, she had searched for every excuse to cancel. But alas, she was on vacation, and no excuse presented itself. So here she was, sipping on bubbly grape juice as the other five bridesmaids relived memories with the bride, who beamed at them all as she helped herself to another fruit pop.

Ah, the cravings of a pregnant women.

Though Padmé had never said anything, she had been avoiding all varieties of liquor like the plague, bringing veggie chips and seltzer water to every fitting, and had been subject to unnecessary fits of emotion at the slightest things. Not to mention her groom doted on her even more, if that was possible.

Oh, yes. She was most definitely pregnant.

Plopping down onto the cushion beside Satine, she smiled around a mouthful of pineapple. “Having fun, yet?”

Satine hummed noncommittally, taking another sip of non-alcoholic champagne. “Your friends are wonderful women…”

“... but you’d rather be sulking in your penthouse, drowning your sorrows in a bottle of wine.” Padmé munched happily away on her fruit pop, seemingly undisturbed by the thought. “Hey, lighten up. Pretty soon the guys will join us, and you can meet some of Anakin’s friends. I’m sure there has to be at least one cute guy among them.”

She laughed softly in acquiescence, knowing full well that it would never happen. No, her heart was still where it always would be. In the hands of the boy, back to her as he drove off in the night.

God, she hated weddings. And who the hell had a wedding with no alcohol?

The doorbell chimed, immediately setting the bridal party into a frenzy. Four women immediately rushed to every available mirror to check makeup and hair, while the fifth, a young girl named Ahsoka, threatened to open the door in an ominous tone. Padmé fluttered from one refreshment table to the next, making sure each was stocked with enough food for her unendingly hungry fiancé and his no doubt unendingly hungry groomsmen. Meanwhile, Satine watched it all in amusement, still sipping on her sparkling cocktail.

When everything and everyone had been deemed perfect, Ahsoka flung open the door and loudly welcomed the guests. Even though she couldn’t see any of their faces, Satine recognized Anakin’s chuckles and gentle affectionate teasing. The other guys’ voices all blended in together, undistinguishable, and for the most part, unrecognizable. Likely old drinking buddies he had worked with while at the Agency. No doubt all five years her junior, towering, muscle-bound volunteer firefighters looking for a quick lay.

Not exactly her type.

Slowly, they began spilling into the living room, all charm and flexing muscles as they sidled up to the women. One, two, three, four, five. Where was six, then? Surely Padmé wouldn’t allow them to have an uneven amount of bridesmaids and groomsmen?

No, for she heard voices drift in from the foyer. Anakin’s, soft and persuasive, followed by Ahsoka in much the same tone. The third person--- or the sixth groomsmen, as she supposed he must be--- replied in a low tone that made Anakin grunt and Ahsoka whine.

Padmé frowned, abandoning her fruit kabob to disappear into the hall. Her voice then joined the conversation, sweet and pleading, and Satine smiled at the long suffering sigh of the stranger. No man could resist the ‘Senator Amidala’, as her pseudonym was. A few seconds later, Ahsoka and Padmé came out arm in arm, triumphant. 

“Well, if it isn’t the Duchess.”

She looked up and smiled. “Captain. I had not the slightest idea that you would be here.” 

Rex sat down beside her, crooked smirk on his face. “Yes, well, Anakin can be very persuasive when he wants. And even I don’t dare say no to Padmé. That woman could talk an Egyptian into a space heater.” He tossed back his glass of sparkling grape juice like it was a shot. “Did you see how she talked the General into socializing with us commoners? The great negotiator himself couldn’t resist her charms, and everyone knows he’s sworn off women forever. Ain’t that right, General?”

“Not giving away military secrets, are you Captain?” The British drawl had her looking up, her eyes meeting a pair that she hadn’t seen for the better part of a decade.

* * *

 

“Obi-Wan?”

He froze, arrested by her gaze. How had he not recognized her? She looked exactly the same as she had a decade ago, if not more curvy, more mature. A woman, now, instead of the teenage girl he had left behind. 

Rex looked between the two of them, seeming somewhat confused. “You know each other?”

She smoothed her expression into something that resembled a smile as she stood. “Yes, of course. Who hasn’t heard of the great collection of half-truths and hyperbole known as Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Her fingers were white around the stem of her wineglass as she smiled tightly at him. “Though I’m sure he would vow that every one of them were god’s own truth.”

Yes, she had changed, but the years had been better to her than him. Not a single gray hair among the blond, no wrinkles but the small laugh lines around  her mouth and eyes. God, she was beautiful. “Satine, it’s good to see you.” Later, he would ask himself how he could pretend to be so calm when he was, in reality, panicking. “After all these years, you’re more beautiful than ever.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Kind words from a man who accused me of treachery.” Rising, she pushed past him. “Rex, please tell me one of you men smuggled in some real drinks. With the way this party is going, I’m going to need something more substantial than grape juice and seltzer.”

Rex gave him an apologetic smile and shrug as he followed her to the refreshment table, leaving Obi-Wan to stare at the loveseat and wonder what had gone wrong.

“Oh, Obi-Wan, I should have warned you.” Padmé suddenly appeared at his elbow, armed with a fruit kebab that looked much nibbled at and picked over. “Satine doesn’t… she tries to avoid men. Especially ex-military.”

“Oh, I’m aware of the Duchess’s views,” he replied quietly, allowing her to twine her arm through his as she chewed on a grape. “I knew her, a long time ago, and I can easily say she hasn’t changed that much.”

Padmé smiled sympathetically. “I can only hope she doesn’t dislike you too much, since you’re going to be going down the aisle together.”

A sinking feeling descended over him. “She’s… a bridesmaid?”

“My maid of honor, actually.” Completely oblivious to the thoughts racing through his head, she chomped away on her fruit pop happily. “I interviewed her at the beginning of my career, to see how she had brought Mandalore from near ruin to be one of the greatest publishing houses in the country. She liked my article, and even asked if I would consider writing for The Sundari, but I had already made a commitment to The Naboo.”

He couldn’t help but follow her gaze to the table where Satine was speaking with Rex and Cody. When he had first met her, she had just been starting out, trying to rescue her family’s failing publishing company. The Mandalore had nearly met its end when a feud had torn apart the board of directors, all family. Yet, she had managed to bring everything together. The Sundari was the political journal that she had built herself, and one of the largest journals in both the States and Europe.

“She has done well for herself,” he admitted softly. “But then, I never doubted it.”

Padmé must have approved of his answer, for she beamed up at him. “Did you know the Council of Neutral States asked her to be on their board? She’s supposed to go to Geneva in two weeks to attend one of their conferences.”

“In Switzerland?” Mentally, he calculated the distance from London to the Swiss City. Less than two hours by plane, if his memory served him correctly. Not that he was going to go, of course. “Has she accepted?”

“She’s thinking about it. Not all of the board is supportive of the idea, and she’s wary about causing another conflict.”

Obi-Wan forced himself to exhale. “As she should be. Her safety is of the utmost importance.”

Something akin to suspicion flickered in Padmé’s gaze, but she didn’t say a word. They stood there for a few minutes in comfortable silence, and he allowed his eyes to follow her across the room. 

Every once in a while, she would glance his way, and their eyes would meet for a few seconds. Then, she’d look away quickly, and show her anger in some small way; fingers tightening around her wineglass, smile tightening, or a quick touch to her companion. Even now, he knew her well.

Eventually Padmé left to rescue her refreshment table, which was steadily being devoured by Anakin and his friends, and he was alone.

An hour later, Anakin and Padmé said goodnight and disappeared upstairs, leaving the guests to their partying. The alcohol was brought out now, and chairs and tables cleared for an impromptu dance floor. Lights were dimmed, music turned up, and drinks poured.

He sat on the edge of it all, watching but not participating. Rex and Cody, identical twins, were the closest to his age, but even they were nearly five years younger than him. Ferus Olin and Tru Veld, Anakin’s friends and colleagues from the Agency, were also in attendance. Then there was Anakin’s step brother, Owen, and his girlfriend Beru. Padmé’s sister Sola and her cousins Sabé and Dormè were also there. Anakin’s foster daughter Ahsoka and Satine rounded out the group. Which made him the ancient uncle who was invited simply to make the numbers even.

Sigh.

Eyeing the stairway, he contemplated retiring himself, but then vetoed the decision. He’d always suffered terrible jet lag, and had slept for most of the afternoon. Not that they would know, but still… what would he do? Go and sit in his room for the next several hours? No, better to mingle with the natives and watch pretty women from afar.

He was truly pathetic.

“General, aren’t you going to dance?” Cody asked as he downed a shot between dances. “You can’t sit ‘em all out.”

“Watch me,” Obi-Wan replied drily. “I’m too old for all this. Go and have fun, though I would slow up on the drinks if I were you.”

“Obi-Wan.”

He turned quickly, too quickly, biting back a curse as he wasted some of his drink. “Satine.”

Amusement lit in her eyes as they flickered from him to his glass. “Tipsy already? Perhaps you are the one who should be slowing down on the drinks.”

Cody chuckled, nudging him. “Talk to you later, General. Duchess.”

“Commander.” Her eyes never left his, their ocean blue depths a shade warmer than they had been earlier. “I was surprised to see you here. Padmé said you were in London.”

“I flew in this morning. Anakin asked me to be his best man, so here I am.” He swallowed what remained of his whisky, relishing the burn it brought. Anything to take his mind off of the fact that he was standing here, talking to her. “You’re still in Phoenix?”

“Yes, though it seems I’m rarely there anymore.” She sighed, tracing the rim of her wine glass. “Business takes me away from home more than I would like.”

“Padmé says the Council of Neutral States has asked you to be on their board.”

Her smile was small, but genuine. “Yes, though I’m not sure I’ll accept. I’m already too busy as it is, and accepting such a position… I’d likely have to relocate to someplace more central.”

“If you ever consider moving to London, I can give you my realtor’s number.” The suggestion was put in jest, but he was dead serious.

A small flicker of surprise lit on her face, followed by a hint of pleasure. “Thank you, I’d like that. Are you still living in the city?”

“Not full time, no. I spend most of my time in Cumbria, though I still keep a flat in London for my business trips.” For a moment, he pondered the situation, wondering how he could be just standing here with her, indulging in small talk as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “How is the Mandalore?”

She smiled. “Good. We recently had to deal with a small uprising from a few of our journalists and editors who were promoting decidedly non pacifist ideals under our name, but we’ve managed to root most of them out.”

He didn’t tell her that he knew all about the scandal with Death Watch, as the group had called themselves, or that he’d volunteered for the position to investigate when the Agency had been called in to investigate the case and had done most of the behind the scenes work to make sure everything about the case went smoothly, or that he had been the one to turn in the anonymous ‘tip’ that had lead to the arrest of the group. He didn’t tell her that he had followed the Mandalore religiously and had every single issue of the Sundari even though he despised politics. And he especially didn’t tell her that he had an entire room wallpapered with every single article that written either about or by her.

Now that he thought about it, that was actually a bit creepy.

No, he was never going to tell her that.

“What are you thinking about, Obi-Wan?” Her voice was softer and lower than it had been earlier, and he could have sworn she had moved closer. “You’re so serious. Do you ever relax?”

Was that a hint of suggestiveness in her tone, or was his self-imposed celibacy beginning to make him imagine things? “Sometimes.”

She hummed, draining the rest of her wine glass and nodding to the empty whiskey glass in his hand. “I’m going to get another. Want one?”

He shouldn’t. He wasn’t a lightweight, but he’d already had a glass of wine and two whiskeys. Another, and he might be tempted to make foolish decisions. And with her around, foolish decisions could be dastardly. Not only did drunk Obi-Wan have lowered inhibitions, but drunk Satine was ten times more seductive than she was normally.

Satine raised an eyebrow at his hesitation. “Don’t tell me you’re already tipsy, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The night’s barely begun.”

“I’m not…”

“Then one more shouldn’t make much of a difference.”

* * *

 

_ I’m going to regret doing this. _

_ But I’m going to regret it even more if I don’t _

Satine mulled over the thought briefly before putting it aside. She wasn’t completely drunk yet, but she was close to it. The heady scent of Obi-Wan surrounded her, adding to the comfortable warmth the alcohol brought.

Even though it was only midnight, the party was beginning to wind down. Sola had left shortly after Padmé and Anakin had said goodnight, and Anakin’s brother and his girlfriend had disappeared upstairs a couple hours earlier. Ferus and Ahsoka, the only completely sober ones among them, were dragging a passed out Tru to his car, were Cody and Rex were already waiting. Sabé and Dormè had only had a couple drinks apiece, and were packing up the few remaining leftovers and tidying up the den as best they could.

She and Obi-Wan had moved to the deck, and were watching the night sky from the depths of an oversized hammock. They were comfortably snuggled under an assortment of throw blankets to ward off the slight chill of the Seattle night, and she found that she didn’t mind the cool as much when she was in his arms.

They’d covered a multitude of subjects over the hours, slowly catching up on what had been happening in each other’s lives, but shying away from speaking about why they’d stopped talking in the first place. But now that they were here, in the relative darkness of the outside and a little drunk, she couldn’t help but voice the question she’d wanted to voice for years.

“Why didn’t you call?”

Contrary to her expectations, he didn’t stiffen up or even seem surprised that she’d asked. Instead, he sighed and pulled her closer. “You know why.”

She did, all to well. “I wouldn’t have asked.”

“I know.”

“But you didn’t…”

“It would have been tempting fate. I wasn’t strong enough to leave you again.”

Wasn’t. “And now?”

A pause, a hesitation. “I don’t know.”

Well that was certainly better than a definite yes, though not as good as a no. Involuntarily, she tightened her grip on his sweater. She may not have forever, but she would would cherish the moments spent in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, all, we've made it through! Thank you for all the support, and I'm so thankful that I was able to participate in something so near to my heart. I want to give a HUGE shout-out to ii Digestive Reader ii for reviewing almost every single chapter this week, and recommend that you go check out her works on Fanfiction. Also, be sure to check out all the other lovely writers and artists who participated in this week, as they were all great! Thank you once again, and I hope to see you all in a year!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all, and welcome to Obitine Week 2018! This is my first year being a part of this, so forgive me if I don’t understand the process very well. I will be posting every day this week, so be sure to subscribe so you get notifications! I hope you enjoy!


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